


Sickness Does That

by theelderfish



Series: Angst and Fluff Prompt Fills [5]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, The Elder Scrolls - Fandom
Genre: Day 5: Sharing a Bed, F/F, OC Angst and Fluff Week 2019, dragonborn gets sick and has her goth gf look after her
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-09-13
Packaged: 2020-10-17 15:29:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20623340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theelderfish/pseuds/theelderfish
Summary: It left a delicate smear of grey on her nose, identical to the strip of purple on Nocturnal’s own. She nuzzled against it, smiling against the soft hum Ophelia emitted at the action.Day 5: Sharing a Bed





	Sickness Does That

Nocturnal watched, fascination dancing in her eyes, as Ophelia made a peculiar jerk forward, an involuntary noise slipping past her lips. The window panes rattled delicately, like the titter of birds in the early mornings. She smiled when Ophelia bumped her head against the door, a hearty thump, with an annoyed, adorable sniff.

Nocturnal waved her hand, bathing the room in a dusky glow. The room filled with the saccharine scent of lavender, made sweeter by the look Ophelia shot her. Ophelia squinted, rubbing a spot covered hand over a running nose.

It left a delicate smear of grey on her nose, identical to the strip of purple on Nocturnal’s own. She nuzzled against it, smiling against the soft hum Ophelia emitted at the action.

“You’re a bit of a mess.” Nocturnal mused, wiping a small bit of mortal fluid from her cheek.

“Sickness does that.” Ophelia deadpanned, sniffing again harshly. 

Nocturnal tilted her head. What sickness could infect a mer immune to poison? Nocturnal lifted Ophelia easily, receiving a squeak in protest. “Hush. If it’s that bad I’ll carry you.” She cooed. This was what a partner did, wasn’t it? 

She set Ophelia down behind the immense dressing screen, slipping a sheer silk nightgown andwoollen overcoat over the top. Nocturnal strolled languidly through the meticulous room, eyeing the trinkets with mixed ire and wonder.

There was a skull, placed behind a pristine plate of glass, Nocturnal thought she could smell the faintest hint of nightshade clinging to the bone. An iridescent masquerade half mask, gold and adorned with silver feathers, completed with a black silk cowl. 

There was a ring of simple gold, encrusted in rustic red. A thick textbook ripping at the creases found a home beside it. There was an armour decoration, that Nocturnal studiously avoided remembering, wing shaped. The paint barely flaking on its black feathers.

“I feel awful.” Ophelia sulked, face and dress pristine. She planted a tired kiss against Nocturnal’s chin, before collapsing dramatically on the bed, “I’m dying.” She lamented, pouting, patting the empty sheets beside her.

Nocturnal nuzzled up against her, until they were curled against each other, the odd pin of tension in her chest easing. She flicked her wrist, covering them both in a thick black blanket. 

“I have you.” She mumbled, eyes fluttering shut.


End file.
